


Kansas Point Of No Return

by iamtheoneinthehole



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Freelancer!AU, Red vs Blue!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:45:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheoneinthehole/pseuds/iamtheoneinthehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AH OT6 (Myan Centric). ‘Couple goes through a mutual breakup but then both sides realize they need the other like they need air and they can’t survive without them and they go through much angst before figuring out that the feeling is also mutual.’ Freelancer!AU (RvB).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kansas Point Of No Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This was a fic written as a gift in the Ragehappy Secret Santa 2014 for littlebluequills. I hope all of you like it- Enjoy!
> 
> Michael Jones= Agent New Jersey
> 
> Ryan Haywood= Agent Kansas
> 
> Ray Narvaez Jr= Agent Puerto Rico
> 
> Gavin Free= Agent Rhode Island
> 
> Geoff Ramsey= Agent Kentucky
> 
> Jack Pattillo= Agent California

Michael Jones narrowly repressed a sigh as he watched Agent Texas successfully wipe the floor with his boyfriends, over and over, to the point that he could catch just the faintest of limps in Agent California’s gate, and Rhode Island was tripping over himself in his futile attempts made to block her… then again it wasn’t often that Rhodey  _wasn’t_ tripping over himself was it?

And he couldn’t help but wince a little under his own armor when the black armored bitch’s left foot connected with Agent Kentucky’s crotch. “Holy shit, she’s fucking brutal.” He offered to the two men stood behind him, getting a silent nod from Kansas on his left and a more verbal affirmation from Puerto Rico on his right who’d already had his session with the project’s ‘brightest and best’ earlier that week… and had come back with bruises all over his slender frame to the point that Michael had been reluctant to let him back out in the field, despite the man’s insistence that he was  _fine._ Stubborn bastard.

Then again, all his boyfriend’s were. It was kind of an unspoken requirement to be a part of this project after all. Excel in basic training, excel in special ops, excel in individual testing, work well as a unit, be fucking stubborn as hell. Michael sure as hell fulfilled that last requirement which was probably why they’d overlooked his initial issues in the unit work and allowed him a space in the project. Michael hadn’t always worked well with others after all.

Neither had Kansas though which was why the pair of them had been made partners, and somehow a mutual loathing for relying on those around them had turned to mutual understanding, and even a tentative friendship. It hadn’t been until their first field mission, when they’d been paired up with Rhodey, Rico, Cali and Ken that they’d really started to see each other as people outside of the armors they wore, and the designations each of them held on the director’s goddamn leaderboard.

From there it’d been a slippery slope into hanging out between missions, and outside of the training arena, drinking together (well most of them since Rico and Kansas both didn’t really dabble in that area, for reasons they’d never really disclosed and Michael hadn’t ever thought to ask) and just spending time in each other’s space to the point that Michael genuinely trusted each and every one of them to have his back, as much as he trusted himself.

And then Rhodey had gotten a little  _too_ drunk one night and had locked lips with Michael and… well the rest was history wasn’t it? A very tentative and secretive history since none of them were exactly sure how the director would react to their ‘team bonding’ exercises, but the general consensus was that it wouldn’t exactly be a positive one and… well it was tough, especially since most of the time life felt too goddamn painfully short for that kind of shit but Kansas especially liked his own privacy and Michael could respect that, he could… no matter how tough it got most days.

“Round over. Advantage Texa-”

“I yield.”

“Rhodey come on! I almost had her-”

“Ken all you ‘almost had’ that last round was brain damage. I yield too. Send the next group out we’re done.” And with that Cali and Rhodey moved either side of the green armor cladded agent, tugging him back over to where Michael and the others were waiting on the observing deck as one of the more ‘advanced’ groups moved in to test their skills against Texas again.

“You’re a fucking dumbass Ken.”

“Fuck you too Jer.” Michael smiled under his helmet, “We lasted more rounds this time right?”

“Three more.” Kansas offered as he moved to carefully ease off Kentucky’s helmet, skimming the man’s head for the injuries Cali had referenced earlier. The others let him, knowing if nothing else that the man had a small background in that area that meant he knew way more about patching people up than the rest of them combined, “How’s your head?”

“Fucking sore. Not as bad as last week though. Crotch is definitely worse.”

“Want me to kiss it better Ken?”

“Holding you to that later Rico.” Laughter diffused the tension in the room after that, Michael finally allowing himself to relax as Kansas deemed Ken acceptable and moved on to checking Rhodey’s injuries. “Why are you three all armored up anyways?”

“Recovery mission. A team wanted backup. Apparently we ranked high enough to make the B team this time.” Kansas offered as he gave Rhodey the okay, moving along the line to Cali as he carefully eased the man’s leg out of its armor for a better look.

“Carolina running this one?”

“When doesn’t she? But yeah. Carolina, York and North as far as I know. South’s stuck on base after the incident last week but they might send Wash or Maine along as well for back up.”

“If Maine’s there, watch your back.”

“When don’t we.” Michael offered, trying not to let his concern bother him when the worry didn’t leave Ken’s expression.

“I’m just saying that guy’s fucking creepy lately.”

“Worse than Kansas creepy?” Rhodey offered, an indignant squawk coming from the agent moments later as said agent turned to swat him on the shoulder.

“Much worse. It’s something about his AI…” They all fell silent for a moment as the elephant in the room was mentioned, Kansas in particular tensing up since the man was furthest up on the list out of the six of them in terms of AI allocation.

“We’ll watch our backs.” Michael eventually offered to break the silence, “Just make sure Texas doesn’t break yours while we’re gone.” He was gratified to see a slight grin quirk the edge of his boyfriend’s lips in response.

“I make no promises asshole.” If it hadn’t been for the public location of the observation deck, Michael would’ve likely thrown caution to the wind with a ‘fuck it’ and kissed that slight smirk right off the man’s lips.

\----

“Five agents on the left, Kansas cover me.” The man in question took off, a streak of red and black passing across Michael’s vision in a way that made him honestly question if his boyfriend hadn’t been given the speed unit instead of Carolina, despite knowing full well that agents that ranked as low as them on the leaderboards didn’t receive shit in terms of upgrades.

“Three to your right New Jersey.” Came Rico’s voice over the comms, Michael turning just in time to avoid the grenade lobbed in his general direction.

“Thanks Rico.”

“Got your back NJ.”

“Just don’t forget to watch yours.” Michael reminded him as he managed to take out one of the rebels who’d been sneaking up on him.

“Duly noted.”

Michael swiftly rolled out of the way of another well aimed grenade heading directly for his skull, firing back a few shots that finally took out the fucker who’d been aiming them, his friend meeting his demise at the hands of Maine’s weird gun-sword thing moments later.

“Puerto Rico we need back up asap, Kansas is down.” Michael felt his blood run cold.

“What do you mean down?” He snapped, narrowly resisting the urge to head over there himself and prove them wrong because… Kansas couldn’t be-

“One of the fuckers we were taking down got lucky, that’s what I mean. Rico we need you now.”

“Is he alive?” He could faintly register Rico taking off in the direction Kansas had moments before, his familiar peach armor failing to comfort in the way it usually did.

“For now at least, but he’s losing a lot of blood.” North’s voice, that meant Kansas was well shielded at least, “I’ve called for evac, we just need to hold them off until we can get him out.”

“Jersey have you and Maine cleared your section.”

“I-”

“Goddammit Jersey I know you guys are partners but this is not the time to fall apart. I need you focussed okay? That’s how we get Kansas out of here. Understood?”

“Understood.” He grit his teeth, reminding himself he wasn’t supposed to be displaying these feelings, that their relationship was a secret for a goddamn reason, “We’ve almost cleared it. Just a few stragglers left.”

“I’m sending York and Washington over to help you clear out. As soon as you’re done, get over here. From now on priorities are clearing house and getting Kansas to safety.”

“What about the artifacts?” Michael had never wanted to hit York so badly than he did in that moment, fact that said hit would likely be immediately followed by a severe ass-whooping since York was ranked 3 in the project for a reason be damned.

“Texas already took care of that.” He was pretty goddamn sure he wasn’t the only one who’d picked up on the bitterness in those words, “Watch each others backs out there and remember to  _stay focussed._ ” Michael bristled a little in his armor at the words, moving to take out another three rebels just to make a point, “And if they get too many, fall back. We don’t want any more casualties on this mission, okay?”

_Any more casualties… any **more** casualties…_

“Status report on Agent Kansas.”

“Jersey what did I just say about focus-”

“Status report on Agent-”

“Unconscious but his vitals are still reasonably strong. We need to move him fast though.”

“Thank you North.”

“Don’t thank me yet Jersey.” Michael grit his teeth, trying his best to ignore the implications of those words as he took out a sniper who’d been steadily firing at Maine for the last minute or so.

“Make sure I have a reason to later then asshole.” He offered a grateful nod to York as the agent took out a group that’d begun to move in from the right, crossing over to offer Washington support on the left flank and praying for the first time in years to a God he didn’t believe in that they weren’t already working on borrowed time.

\----

The flight back to the Mother of Invention occurred in complete silence. Between the tension that Texas’ success and Carolina’s ensuing failure in terms of the mission, and Kansas’ continued unconsciousness, no one was really up for talking. York had made a feeble attempt once, but Wash had been quick to silence him on that front. Whether it was Carolina’s dirty look or his own ashen face that’d inspired that though, he couldn’t be sure.

Rico wasn’t coping much better. He’d seen the immediate aftermath of Kansas getting taken down himself after all, and if the slight tremor of the man’s usually steady hands was anything to go by… it hadn’t been pretty. Michael himself hadn’t been allowed to see him after his almost breakdown over the coms earlier. He was being kept in a separate room with North steadily watching over him and York’s healing unit embedded into the back of the man’s armor.

The man had offered without anyone even asking which had pushed him back up there in Michael’s estimations. He’d even left Delta to watch over Kansas as the unit did it’s best to compensate for the lack of a medical professional aboard 479ers jet. And all the while Michael was left to stare blankly ahead of himself, the prayer from before like a mantra in his mind at this point. ‘ _Just hang in there Kansas. Don’t let us be too fucking late_.’

It wasn’t until they’d docked, and Kansas had been hastily wheeled off to the medical unit, that Michael allowed himself to break a little, pulling off his helmet and tossing it aside in a way that made it clink a few times against the hangar floor, sinking to the ground moments later as he closed his eyes and forced himself to just  _breathe._

“You doing okay there Jersey?” He looked up, fully prepared to snap at whoever it was because what kind of fucking dumbass question was that? But when he saw Wash’s genuine, and shockingly helmetless (since most of the project were pretty damn convinced the guy was actually physically welded to his armor or some shit. He  _never_ took it off), concern staring back… he kind of felt the fight go out of him a little.

“I’ve been better.”

“Figured as much,” The man offered a wry smile, taking a seat next to Michael on the metal flooring, “This kind of reminds me a little too much of the Sarcophagus mission you know?”

Michael winced a little at that, remembering all too well how that particular mission had turned out. When Maine had been wheeled in on a stretcher and suddenly the previous feeling of this project being fucking invincible had begun to fade away to reality a little. “Yeah.”

“He’ll be okay. Maine was much worse when they got him in here and-”

“Look Wash I appreciate this but… I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Yeah, I get that. You love him right?” Michael spun to face Wash, his expression something akin to a deer in headlights in way that almost made the man smile before he added, “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. But it’s pretty hard to miss you know. You’re almost as obvious as York is about Carolina.”

“Shit, really?” There wasn’t really much point in denying it after all. Wash had scored ridiculously high on the psychological stuff in those initial tests, second only to Kansas and some agent named Florida that, now that he thought about it, Michael wasn’t sure he’d ever run a mission with.

“Yeah it’s pretty bad. He really will be fine though. We’ve all taken some pretty hard knocks these last few months, guess it was just Kansas’ turn to bear the brunt of that.”

“Guess so.” Michael offered a little weakly, brain belatedly supplying the information that he probably should’ve gone after Rico instead of wallowing in his own misery like this, “Did you see which way-”

“Towards the observation deck. I’d imagine he’s looking for Rhodey and the others since they’re meant to be having a session right now.” Michael nodded his thanks, slowly moving to stand up and grabbing his helmet from the corner it’d landed in.

“Hey Wash.” The man nodded, “Do you think they’re gonna move forward Kansas’ AI implantation because of this?” Something dark passed over the agent’s face in response to that, the man falling silent for a long moment before he added.

“I hope not.”

\----

“Hey Jersey.” Michael blinked, moving over a little to allow Kentucky a little room beside him as they watched the surgeons operate, “Anything new?”

“They’ve just implanted the chip. Say he should make a full recovery once he regains consciousness. York’s lent him the healing unit for a little longer.”

“What enhancement’s he been given?”

“Camo. Apparently they had a spare prototype lying around.” They fell silent for a moment.

“What’s it’s name?”

“Eta I think? That’s what they told Cali earlier.”

“Hopefully Eta’s less creepy than Sigma, Kansas manages to be creepy enough on his own.” Something in Kentucky’s words fell a little flat, the concern the man was feeling as apparent as Michael’s own in that moment as the surgeons finished up the procedure.

“How’s Rico coping?” Michael asked after a moment, his mind forcibly banishing the image of the smaller man the last time he’d seen him, curled up into a tiny ball with Cali and Rhodey curled around him. Like they desperately wanted to shield him from the world as much as Michael did.

“Better. He asked after Kansas without flinching which is… something at least.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Just that he was recovering well… didn’t think it was the right time to bring up, well you know what.”

“Good call.” Michael nodded, hand subconsciously moving to run over the slot in the back of his armor where his own AI would be implanted one day.

“Go get some rest Jer. I’ll keep watch for a couple of hours.”

“Bu-”

“You’re useless to him keeling over from exhaustion, okay?” Michael sighed, silently conceding that the man probably had a point.

“Com me if he wakes up?”

“Like hell am I letting any of you assholes sleep through that.” Ken offered with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Now piss off to bed before I get Rhodey to drag you there.”

Michael almost smiled at that, something about the ridiculous image of Rhodey even attempting to do as such bringing a smile to his face, “Catch you later Ken.”

\----

“Jer get up.” Michael groaned, roughly swatting at the patch of air Rhodey currently inhabited.

“Piss off Rhodey.”

“But  _Jer_ he’s up.” That was enough to get Michael attention, his move to sit up almost dislodging the gangly agent who’d been situated on his hips in the process. He almost smiled at the bird-like squawk he got from the man in response as he clung to Michael’s shoulders for balance, almost.

“Come on idiots, Ken and Rico are already down there.” Cali offered from the side of the bed, the man rolling his eyes moments later as he and Rhodey scrambled off the bed and towards the scattered armor at the side of the room, reassembling each piece as quickly as they could. Michael almost grabbing an Olive chest plate instead of his comfortingly familiar brown, and Rhodey very nearly grabbing Michael’s helmet as they finished off assembling their armor, “One of these days we’re gonna get caught just because you two never learned the colors of your own armor.” Cali almost laughed as he began to tug the pair of them out of the room, and down towards the med bay.

“I blame Rhodey.”

“Rhodey _is_  pretty blameable.”

“What? Why’s it my fault?”

“You were the one who was in such a rush to get that armor off him in the first place.”

“It’s called being concerned you mong.”

“Yeah your mouth on his dick really looked like ‘concern’.”

“To be fair I did appreciate his ‘concern’.”

“Yeah that much was pretty obvious given how long that ‘concern’ lasted.” Michael shoved Cali’s arm lightly, gratified to hear the man’s rich laughter in response as something heavy seemed to lift from all of their shoulders. Kansas had made it through recovery. He was awake. The operation had been a success. And he wouldn’t be like Maine, of course he wouldn’t, because he was Agent Kansas. Michael’s partner and probably the man he trusted most out of anyone he’d ever met. Of course he’d pull through. He  _had_ pulled through…

So why were there still doubts lingering at the back of Michael’s mind as they entered the med bay, Rhodey and Cali heading straight over to the bed where Kansas was situated, leaving Michael to linger in the doorway, oddly frozen in place until Rico crossed the room to take his hand, the relief in the man’s eyes effectively silencing all of Michael’s remaining doubts as he allowed himself to be pulled over to his  _finally_ conscious partner.

“-ever do that again, we’ll kill your ourselves. Understand?” Kansas smirked a little at that.

“Wouldn’t that kind of defeat the purpose Ken-”

“You know what I mean asshole.” The agent raised his hands in mock defeat, head turning to face Michael as he tentatively approached the bed.

“Hey Jersey.”

“Hey KanKan.” The agent in question merely rolled his eyes at that, hand finding Michael’s own on the mattress beside him.

“I thought we agreed not to call me that anymore.”

“Yeah well assholes who’ve been unconscious for three fucking days don’t get a say in the dumb nicknames I use on them.”

“Touche.” The man offered, a fondness lingering in his tone that made it really fucking hard not to lean over and kiss him, consequences be damned.

“How long until they let you out?” Cali asked, something in the man’s stance telling Michael that he wasn’t the only one fighting a losing battle with restraint right now.

“They want to keep me in overnight, just to be safe. After that though I’m free to go.” Michael was about to add something else when a sudden flicker of something over Kansas’ right shoulder made them all fall silent, especially Rico whose casual grip against the bed frame had suddenly gotten tight enough to dent it slightly, “Guys, this is Eta.”

The AI quietly observed the group gathered around Kansas’ bed, startling back a little when Rhodey moved as if to touch it, before slowly creeping back to observe the agent with equally curious eyes. “What’s it like?” He asked after a long moment, echoing the curiosities of the rest of the group.

“A little odd. Not unpleasantly so though. It’s kind of like… a gentle pressure at the back of my mind, a consciousness that I can tell isn’t my own but also is it’s… well not to sound like a walking cliche here but, it’s complicated.” Michael’s lips quirked a little at that.

“Well it seems friendly enough.” Kentucky admitted as they watched Rhodey and the AI interact.

“He… or at least I think he’s a he. We haven’t really talked too much yet. We’re still mostly getting a feel for each other.”

“ _I’ll_ give you a feel when we’re back in our room.” Michael murmured under his breath, gratified when he caught the interested glint in Kansas’ gaze in response.

“Not in front of the children Jer.” Cali teased, gesturing to where Eta and Rhodey seemed to be playing some form of peek a boo. In a way Eta reminded him a little of North’s AI, only seemingly a little less talkative. Friendly enough though, as Ken had pointed out before, and definitely not as creepy as Sigma had turned out to be.

“Does it speak much?” Rico finally chimed in, as he released his grip on the bed frame a fraction.

“Bits and pieces it’s… strange. It’s kind of like half the time I’m only getting one half of a conversation in here.”

“Well that’s kind of how conversations work Kan-”

“No I mean like I’m only hearing half of whatever Eta has to say… it’s probably just a side effect of the implantation process. I’ll ask North or York about it later.” They all nodded, most of them seeming to drop the thought, though Michael found Kansas’ words lingering in his mind. Because if Kansas was only hearing half of whatever it was Eta had to say… what was it that was happening to the other half?

\----

Michael had grit his teeth inside his helmet, but otherwise said nothing, when Kansas’ name appeared among the list of Agents assigned to the next mission, just a week after he’d been discharged from the medical bay. Of course he’d known it was coming, Kansas had always been a formidable agent, and apparently this AI had already made him twice as efficient. Michael himself could admit to being impressed by what he’d witnessed the first night Kansas and Eta had appeared in the training arena together but… that still didn’t stop the niggling voice of doubt in his head, telling him that this was far too soon for the man, however formidable he might be, to be back out there in the field.

He knew better than to voice his opinion though, knowing as an agent who’d just barely scraped his way onto the ‘B-Team’ along with South and Rico, especially after the way he’d almost shut down on his last mission, his opinion had little if any fucking value as far as the Director was concerned.

It didn’t stop him from pacing a hole in the docking bay floor as they waited for 479er to pick them up though, only pausing in his steps when Rico caught his arm and pulled him to take a seat beside him, his body language saying what his face couldn’t behind his helmet;  _pull yourself the fuck together already, we have a job to do_.

He hated that Rico was right, and hated even more that Kansas, stood at the other end of the docking bay, appeared to be ignoring him entirely. The way he’d been doing for a couple of days now, ever since he’d come back from one of his late night training sessions with a colder look in his eyes, one that’d chilled Michael to his very bones and made him wonder if Ken actually had a point when he’d made jokes about the man’s ‘madness’. Ever since then it’d been one word answers and non-committal grunts and Michael had no fucking idea what’d changed or why. He had his suspicions though, namely in the form of the artificial prick wandering the length of Kansas’ right shoulder.

“Jer.” Michael blinked at the sound of Rico’s voice, somehow in his musings having managed to miss the jet arriving in the docking bay, “Time to go.” There was a question in the Agent’s voice, a hesitation that spoke volumes of the fact that, as far as Rico was concerned, it was  _him_ who shouldn’t be going back into the field so soon and so he forced a pointless false smile behind his mask and altered his stance into something a little less slumped, sending up a hopeless prayer to an absent god that just this once they could have an assignment that went by the book.

\----

“South I need you covering Maine, Rico have you got sights on the artifact?”

“Kansas is closing in.”

“York, Jersey update on the locks?”

“Managed to disable the primary system but… whoever puts these locks together-”

“-Seriously knew their shit. It’s like a fucking labyrinth.” Michael pointed out as he cut down another sniper from their vantage point, casting a glance over his shoulder at the glowing tangle of locks and seals that York and Delta were methodically working through.

“Just keep the rebels off him Jersey. York, get those locks broken as fast as you can.”

“I’m on it.”

“Rico status update.”

“Kansas has the artifact, providing cover fire.”

“Heading to where you are, keep your sights on them.” Michael did his best not to give too much thought to the fact that both of his partners were currently in the thick of the rebels’ fire squad, focussing his energies instead on keeping off the seemingly endless onslaught of soldiers that’d been attempting to swarm them. He also did his best not to linger too much over the idea that there seemed to be a lot more of these bastards than last time, and that their competency only seemed to increase with every mission…

“Shit.” York’s focus fell away from the locks for a moment as Carolina’s voice burst across the coms. “Tunnel caved in, I’ll find another way. Hang in there boys.” Michael barely caught the affirmation from Rico, body tensing under his armor in a way that York obviously noticed given his words moments later.

“They’ll be fine. Delta always keeps tabs on the other AI, apparently neither Eta nor Kansas are in the danger zone and I’ve yet to meet a rebel that can out-snipe Rico.” Michael gave the man a nod, grateful that he’d been considerate enough to leave that off the main coms as he returned his attentions back to the task at hand and-

“West corridor’s getting a little too hot, and that cave-in blocked our way in without York breaking those locks down.”

“I’m working on it!”

“Work faster!”

“South try and make it to the evac point with Maine, the cave-in should hold that ground well enough on its own.”

“We can hold this area fine until York gets the damn-”

“Fall back South.” There was a beat of silence and then a reluctant affirmative on South’s end signalling that she’d received and understood Carolina’s orders. “Everyone else hold your posts.”

“Easier said than done.” Rico snarked, though thankfully the words didn’t sound as distressed as Michael had begun to fear they would.

“At least you’ve got the high ground.” Michael snarked back, as he rolled out of the way to dodge a well aimed grenade that thankfully didn’t roll close enough to catch York off guard.

“Guess I picked up some tips from those ‘classic’ Earth movies Ken made us watch.” Michael’s lips curled a little under his helmet against that, the smile dropping from his lips moments later when a string of curses suddenly rang through the feed from Rico’s end. “Carolina we need you.  _Now_.”

“Rico what is it?”

“Jer stay on task. It’s-”

“Agent New Jersey I think it’s probably best that you remain-” Michael tuned out their words, a sinking feeling within his gut telling him he already knew _exactly_ what’d just happened.  _Not again, not a-fucking-gain. Please._

“Carolina how close are you to Puerto Rico and Kansas?” Michael was almost startled by how steady his own voice sounded.

“ETA ten minutes.”

“That’s not fast enough.” The words were spoken off the main coms, though clearly York had heard him since the Agent tensed up for a moment before responding.

“Then go to him.”

“York-”

“Look I’d do the same for Carolina in a heartbeat. I get it. Go to him.”

“Agent York, sending Agent New Jersey to assist Agent Kansas decreases your probability of survival by-”

“Don’t tell me the odds D, just help me beat them.” Michael hesitated for a long moment before taking off down one of the side corridors, doing his best to force down the guilt that clawed its way up his throat as he raced towards the heart of the ship where Rico and Kansas had headed earlier.

The sight of Kansas collapsed in a corner of the room was the first thing that caught his gaze. If he was entirely honest with himself it was the only thing that caught his gaze for a long moment as he stared at the unmoving form of his partner uncomprehendingly… before suddenly whirring into action, bullets flying as he cleared a path to Kansas, pulling the man’s arm over his shoulder as he fought his way back towards the exit he’d come from, Rico’s bullets soaring overhead to take out aggressors that Michael had missed in the narrow minded determination he felt pulsing through his very core.

_Keep Kansas safe. Keep Kansas safe. Keep Kansas safe._

\----

“Agent New Jersey.” Michael spun on his heels, doing his best not to flinch under the Director’s piercing gaze that he’d almost convinced himself was capable of piercing through the heavy duty armor all Freelancers wore, into their very souls…

Okay when he put it like that it sounded fucking ridiculous but so did pretty much every other theory that he’d heard whispered in dark corners of the Mother of Invention. No one, after all, seemed to have a fucking clue about the man they worked for, save perhaps Carolina and the ‘bitch in black’ as she’d recently come to be referred to as (by South and Ken especially). And neither of those people were exactly the caring-sharing type so that left the rest of them in the dark to hypothesize, and to fear if Michael was entirely honest with himself.

Especially now that he’d failed in his directive, putting at risk the life of a Freelancers whose rank was significantly above his own, who’d never once failed his own directive, who’d been one of the first to be implanted with an AI and… “I hear it was thanks to your quick thinking that we recovered the artifact.” Wait, what? “Agents York and Kansas mentioned it in the briefing I held with them when you returned to base. Apparently the rebel forces were converging on Agent Kansas and the artifact and since no other operatives that could be spared could make it to the location, you took the initiative and recovered them both.”

He was getting praised. For going off mission, abandoning York and putting one of the project’s top agents at risk he was getting fucking  _recognition_. Probably the most the Director had ever shown him in all the time he’d spent aboard the Mother of Invention… It made him feel sick, false,  _dirty_ even as the man gave him a nod of approval, even more so when he vaguely registered words about him being moved up the list of Agents due to receive their AI implantations. No doubt he’d be getting shit from South about that later, but that thought hardly registered above the guilt he felt that York had fucking covered for his colossal fuck up after he’d almost cost the man his  _life_.

He silently made a vow to himself, then and there, that if the situation ever presented itself in which he could repay the man, he’d do so in a heartbeat.

Eventually the Director dismissed him, and he was able to make the long walk back to quarters, pausing for a moment near where the leaderboard shone against one of the walls in the training arena, and double taking in a manner that’d probably be almost comical under other circumstances when he realized he’d been moved up the ranks… and Rico and Kansas had both been moved down.

He could practically feel the questioning gazes on the back of his head as he walked the length of the room, eyes seeking out the sole individual who wasn’t gawping at him in that moment. The man who, this time, thankfully hadn’t needed as much time in recovery since the wounds he’d sustained had, apparently, only been minor, especially in comparison to the last time he’d come back from a mission…

He couldn’t help but wonder if he had Eta to thank for that, or if the AI was actually the reason Kansas had wound up in the med bay again in the first place.

“Jersey.” The sound of Kansas’ voice caught him off guard, as did the man’s hand on his shoulder, clearly steering him towards his own quarters, though Michael was hardly about to complain about that when it was the most interaction he’d had from him in days, “We need to talk.”

\----

Michael stared at the man for a long moment, not quite comprehending his words, or perhaps not quite wanting to. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Lately I feel like that’s a question I need to be asking you. What the fuck was that during our last mission?” Michael did his best not to flinch at the coldness in the man’s voice,

“What you mean me saving your ass and our assignment?”

“Spare me the bullshit York made me spin for the Director. We both know what really happened in the field.”  _York_  made him spin… which meant that Kansas hadn’t wanted to cover his ass himself.  _York_  had made him spin...

“I saved your life.”

“Almost at the cost of York’s. And we both know who the Director holds in higher regard, and the Project as a whole for that matter. I’m not as-”

“Spare me  _that_ bullshit. Save it for the Director, whose opinion you suddenly seem to care about so much. You matter more to me asshole, and I don’t give a fucking damn who’s better for the Project as a whole-”

“Which is exactly the problem I’m talking about. You’ve clearly lost your ability to be emotionally impartial in the field. Our missions require  _everyone_ to be completely focused on the task at hand, we’re only as strong as our weakest player, and lately that’s been you.”

“Way to pull your punches Kansas.”

“I’m not here to be your buddy Jersey, I’m here to be your partner. Clearly somewhere along the line you forgot that but when we all started this arrangement, we agreed no emotions.”

“I didn’t agree jackshit.”

“Perhaps not, but those were my terms.” There was a long moment of silence once more as Michael let the man’s words roll over him, leaving traces of ice in their wake as the coldness of the man’s tone seemed to seep into his bones.

“And now that I’ve ‘broken your terms’ that’s it? Way to make our relationship sound like a fucking business deal KanKan.”

“I thought we said don’t-”

“Assholes who use bias in the field as an excuse to avoid their monumental fucking commitment and trusts issues don’t get a goddamn say in what I call them.” He hated Kansas in that moment, hated even more the way his voice broke as he called him out on his bullshit.

Kansas sighed, calmly, in a way that made something white hot prickle under Michael’s skin, “Fine, call me the dumb nickname if it pleases you.”

“It’d ‘please’ me more if you’d give me a goddamn name other than Kansas to call you. All those months and I don’t get a place of birth, an age, a reason you got involved in this war, a favorite color… I don’t even get a fucking  _name_  other than your goddamn rank-”

“Kind of hypocritical to chose _that_  as your battleground here since the same could be said about you.” Michael paused for a moment, gratified to hear sounds of his partner’s own emotions creeping into his words now, because anger was still better than this passive bullshit Kansas had been spewing before.

“Fine. You want to know shit about me? My name’s Michael.” Dead silence. “I actually grew up in New Jersey, though the accent probably gave that away.” Fucking  _nothing_. “I used to work as an electrician before I was conscripted.” Michael was pretty sure he could hear South laughing a couple of quarters down from this with how goddamn fucking  _quiet_ it was. “My best friend in training encouraged me to apply for project freelancer, she was killed in action a few weeks later. Her name was Lindsay-”

“Michael. Stop.” Michael fell silent, staring at the man in front of him for a long moment. The man who almost always wore his mask save when alone with them, the nameless man with a past full of question marks and a future he refused to let Michael be a part of, because he’d had the fucking  _nerve_ to  _feel_ something other than professional attachment? No. He refused to let Michael be a part of it because Kansas never  _would_ have that nerve.

“So that’s it then. All those months and… fucking nothing?” There was a long beat of silence where Kansas almost looked as if he were going to apologise to Michael but he didn’t fucking need that, and he  _certainly_ didn’t need the man’s pity. “Go fuck yourself then Agent Kansas.”

\----

It’d been six days, seven hours, and twenty three minutes since he and Kansas had broken it off, but Michael wasn’t counting. Approximately two hours less than that since Michael had been a free agent. But again, he wasn’t counting. Even when he felt Rhodey’s eyes on him in training, or he found himself deliberately avoiding bumping into Cali in the mess hall. Even when he declined Ken’s invitation to spar in favor of improving his solo technique, and forced himself to ignore Rico’s pleas to just  _talk_ to them already because between him and Kansas the four of them were going out of their fucking minds…

He  _definitely_ didn’t count whenever he and his partner were sent out into the field together. He was a professional after all, and that meant he stayed focused on the task at hand… though admittedly it’d become a lot easier to do that as of late since the Director seemed to have decided that, as partners, Michael’s place was at Kansas’ side. It would probably have been awkward were he less of a professional, but the growingly high risk situations they found themselves in kept him in check… mostly.

Not enough that he hadn’t started to notice how, while undeniably skilled in the field, Kansas’ abilities to take out whatever threat he faced was a little… limited. Kind of like how the man had once described his AI, it was often like Kansas was only fighting half a battle against the rebels. Which was precisely where Michael came in, as Kansas’ ‘other half’ (and no the irony of that term was not fucking lost on him thank you very much, he was just too much of a professional to acknowledge the fact).

The worst part was he was good at it. Fucking  _great_ at it even. To the point that it wasn’t even a question anymore as to whether or not either of them would be picked for missions, and who they’d be paired with if they were. He and Kansas had become a package deal within the Project, the two of them steadily climbing the leaderboard under the approving (and still fucking creepy ass) gaze of the Director, and the resentful stare of South and a few others whose efforts to catch the attention of their esteemed leader hadn’t been quite so successful.

Michael hated every goddamn second of it. And it wasn’t because he was counting those days, hours and minutes that’d gone by because he  _hadn’t_ been fucking counting. It was because he’d never wanted to be one of the Director’s favorites. Especially considering that being a favorite involved mass resentment from other Agents and an extra fucking special place on the list of operatives due to receive an AI implantation in the rapidly approaching future.

It’d been one week, two days, one hour and thirty three minutes since he and Kansas had broken it off when Michael was first told the name of what would soon be his AI unit. Iota. He’d mused that the name sounded innocent enough, better than Eta anyway, and he admitted the thought was petty but it wasn’t because he was counting, it was simply the competitiveness of the leaderboard wreaking havoc on his mind, combined with the natural resentment that arose from being part of a matching set, instead of being allowed an identity of his own.

South resented North for similar reasons after all. He imagined the two of them would probably even have an understanding now if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d essentially stolen her shot at an AI from her and now she’d been relegated even further down the list of Agents due for implantation.

Well if South fucking wanted Iota, she could go ahead, prove herself to the Director and take the fucking AI for her own. Michael wouldn’t stop her.

Two weeks, a day, three hours and fifteen minutes since he and Kansas had broken it off and the world faded to a medically induced darkness, his last spoken words before he did a simple ‘good luck’ to Wash as they prepped the Agent for his own treatment. The first off mission words he’d spoken to anyone in almost the same amount of time. His last unshared thought had been the simple self-retort that whatever anyone thought about it, the fact that he knew exactly how long had passed didn’t mean he was fucking counting.

\----

He awoke to the sounds of screaming. Wash screaming, a voice in the back of his head screaming, which he knew must be Iota’s and another faint scream that sounded a little like Kansas’ AI… and then suddenly all the screaming stopped as Wash was sedated.

No one had noticed Michael was awake yet, allowing him to observe the way the agent had been restrained to the bed, eyes widening a fraction when he caught sight of the haunted look in the Director’s eyes. Wash wasn’t dead, that much was apparent but… something had gone  _seriously_ fucking wrong during his implantation.

_Worry about that later._  Michael just narrowly kept himself from bolting off the bed at the sound of Kansas’ voice loud and clear in the back of mind.

_ How the fuck can I hear you? _

_Eta and Iota… I’ll explain later._

_ Try explaining now. _

_You’ve got about one minute and twenty three seconds to get moving before they notice you’re awake, I think I’d rather try explaining later. All you need to know now is the Director’s a fucking ass and he’s lied, to all of us._

Michael cautiously slipped the catheter from his arm, feet carefully padding from the room.  _Any idea where my armor is?_

_I have it. I’ll return it to you. Just get moving._

_ A fucking direction to get moving in would be helpful. _

_Iota should be able to cover that._

_What do you-_  He blinked as a map flickered to life before his eyes for a moment, a blinking dot appeared on it moments later that something within him instinctively knew was Kansas.  _On my way. Those explanations of yours better be fucking good._

_They are._  Michael picked up the pace as he heard the telltale sounds of someone pursuing him along the corridors, a lingering guilt at leaving Wash behind like that, when the man was so obviously vulnerable, plaguing his mind.  _He’ll be fine. With any luck he won’t know anything he shouldn’t yet. It’ll keep him safe. We don’t have that luxury._

_ I don’t know shit, I fail to see why I wouldn’t- _

_Because you ran Michael, only guilty men run._  He grit his teeth as he ducked around another corner, desperately wishing the med bay allowed weapons since the loss of his armor right now was already making him feel exposed enough.

_ Don’t call me that. _

_What?_

_ Michael. Don’t call me that. _

_Fine. Asshole it is._  Michael almost smiled at that. Almost.

_Dick._ He turned left, only to come face to face with Kansas, 479er and an uncharacteristically quiet York, the three of them quickly whisking him aboard the jet, the revelation that Texas would be ‘coming in hot’ moments later ensuring they were all quick about getting to their posts and preparing for takeoff.

Two weeks, a day, seven hours and 5 minutes later Michael forced down a concern for Rhodey, Rico, Cali and Ken in all this, that threatened to rear it’s ugly head, and wondered how the fuck everything had suddenly gone so horribly wrong.

\----

‘Agent New Jersey?’ Came a soft tentative voice from within the depths of his subconscious.

_ Yeah? _

‘I never got a chance to introduce myself before… I’m Iota. And I’m sorry for before.’

_ Not your fault. You can’t exactly help your creator being an ass, or Kansas being one for that matter- _

‘I meant I was sorry about the screaming. I didn’t mean to hurt or scare you-’

_ It’s fine. Far as I can tell you didn’t exactly have a choice in that part either. _

‘But-’

_ Seriously Io, it’s fine. _

‘...Io?’

_ Yeah it’s a nickname. Don’t tell me AI have a problem with those too- _

‘No it’s fine. I’ve just-’

_‘-never had one before.’_  Michael stirred a little at the sound of another, fainter, voice in the back of his mind.

_ Eta? _

_Thought so._

_ Kansas? _

_Do you remember when I told you it felt as if I was only having one half of a conversation with my AI?_

Michael did his best approximation of a nod he could think of in his mind… which was, in essence, just aggressively thinking the word  _nod  _but Kansas seemed to understand what he meant.

_I think Iota was speaking the other half of it, and vice versa._

_ Why? _

_Because they were originally a part of the same AI unit._

_...How’s that even- _

_Possible? From what I’ve gathered some kind of torture inflicted upon the original AI unit, the ‘alpha’ unit… In essence the Director tormented it until it literally tore itself apart in order to escape the agony._

_And that’s how we received our AI?_  Michael felt sick.

_That’s how everyone received them._  Scratch that, Michael might  _be_ sick.

_ How many AI were there in Project Freelancer? _

_At my last count? Eight, nine including the Alpha unit._

_And that’s just the ones we know about…_  They both fell silent for a long moment as the weight of that statement seemed to settle in the air between them.  _What else have I missed?_

_The reason for Maine’s insanity. His AI fragment, Sigma, wishes to reunite all fragments with the Alpha and is using Maine as a conduit to achieve those goals. He now calls himself ‘the Meta’._

_ He wants to reunite all the AI fragments? _

_According to Texas he’s already retrieved at least one._

_ Epsilon? _

_Gamma… Epsilon committed suicide inside Wash’s mind._

_...Shit. Is there any- _

_Chance of our AI doing the same? Unlikely. Epsilon was memory, his unit probably had good reason to attempt to take itself out of the picture. The small mercy is then that our AI don’t share those memories._

_ Is Wash okay? _

_He was when Epsilon was removed. And Texas and York both agree that as long as the experience didn’t inform him of any information he shouldn’t know, he’ll remain that way._

_ Will ‘the Meta’ come after us? _

_Undoubtedly. And when he does, Eta and Iota must be protected. At all costs._

Michael offered another mental nod.  _Omega and Delta too… What about Rhodey, Rico, Cali and Ken?_

_What do you mean?_

_ Are they safe? _

_Their obliviousness should keep them safe for now._

_Until we get the chance to pull them out._  A long beat of silence passed before Michael added,  _Don’t you fucking dare Kansas, we’re pulling them out._

_I really hoped by now you’d have learned to think with your goddamn head Jer-_

_ Well not everyone’s a goddamn robot like you Kansas. Funnily e-fucking-nough I can’t just flick a switch and choose not to feel. Even if I fucking want to. _

_Michael._

_ I told you not to fucking call me that. _

_You’re acting like a child._

_No I’m acting like someone in love with four men who could die at any fucking minute._  And one ass who refuses to acknowledge even the remotest possibility that he might be too because it’s easier not to fucking feel.  _God_ did Michael fucking envy him for that in that moment.  _And if you have any fucking snarky comment you’d like to make about that, you and it can both fuck off to the other end of this jet because I didn’t fucking chose to feel this way, and I definitely don’t need you to give me shit about it._

He couldn’t be sure, but moments later it felt as if the faintest of pressures against the back of his mind had weakened slightly, leaving Michael to lay there in the darkness, with only Iota and a reluctance to get up and face the rest of the world lingering for company.

\----

“Agent Jersey.” Michael would swear blind later that he absolutely didn’t simultaneously jump and flinch at the sound of Texas’ voice approaching him. He’d be a fucking liar for doing so of course, and in his defense he’d seen her kick his exes’ asses more times than he could count, but he’d still swear it all the same.

“Agent Texas… and call me Michael. I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to use the name the Director gave me, not now I know what he’s done.” Texas nodded, and he was pretty sure he’d received something akin to approval in her books.

“Call me Tex. That’s the best I can offer since my real name would send your AI into meltdown.” Michael knew his surprise at that showed on his face but he knew better than to ask questions about it, instead gladly accepting the olive branch she’d offered.

“Tex it is… how are you holding up?”

“Better than most of us I think… that’s not an insult by the way, I’ve just known about this for a little longer and that’s helped a little a guess.”

“How long.”

“Since a few days after Agent Connecticut was removed from the leaderboard.” Michael nodded in understanding.

“She left you a message?” Tex nodded, “What did it say?”

“The truth. I’d imagine Kansas has already told you most of that.”

“You mean about the fragments?” Another nod, “Yeah.”

They sat there in silence for a long moment before Tex surprised him by adding, “You know years ago, long before Project Freelancer was even thought about, we dated. Me and the Director I mean… he wasn’t such a dick back then.” She paused for a moment before turning so that her helmet directly faced Michael’s, “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from that it’s that letting people in, especially in a line of work like ours, is always a risk, and often it results in you loving the wrong people, and hating both them and yourself a little bit for it. But if you think for a goddamn second that it’s not worth every second of that hatred then you’re a fucking fool. Because a little bit of love colored with hate is sure as hell better than feeling nothing at all.”

\----

Michael stared at the ceiling of the jet, boring a hole into the paneling across it, as he did his best not to get too irritated at the fact that he seemed to have gained Kansas’ insomnia along with his internal monologue and the interwoven presence of his AI in the back of Michael’s mind. He’d been just about to get up and pace over to where 479er sat in the control room for an update when a faint murmur of something in his head caught him off guard.

_My name’s Ryan. Just thought you might want to know._

Ryan. Kansas’ name was Ryan. He didn’t have a last name, or a life story, or anything really more than what he’d had before except… he did have this. This token of trust from a man who trusted no one and goddamn if Michael was ever going to get some fucking sleep tonight now because now he had a name for his partner and the voice in the back of his head that hadn’t been assigned by the director. A name that suited him far better than Kansas ever had (especially since Michael had always been pretty sure the faint twang of an accent he’d sometimes caught on the Agent’s words was Georgian).

Ryan.

And just with that one little word Michael knew he’d fallen back into the deep end with this man (that was, provided he’d ever left it in the first place) because he’d given Michael his name. And maybe that was far from a love declaration, but it was sure as hell a start.

\----

The next morning saw everyone gathered in the hull of the aircraft as Texas detailed her plan of action, with occasional input from York, himself and Ryan.

Yeah, he still wasn’t really over the Ryan thing, though in his defense he hadn’t exactly seen the revelation coming, especially after the way they’d clashed over the situation with Rhodey, Rico, Cali and Ken. It was a topic which they’d both been resolutely avoiding ever since, for the sake of maintaining the strange sort of truce that’d seemed to settle between them Michael imagined.

Or at least, it’d been that way until about ten minutes into the meeting when Ryan chose to raise the suggestion of bringing in more ‘like minded’ agents over to their cause… and had placed their four exes at the top of his list of suggestions. Were it not for the fact that Michael wasn’t entirely sure how the action would be received, he could’ve very easily kissed Ryan then and there, present company be damned. As it was, he instead chose to express his approval by immediately jumping to back up the man’s suggestions, doing his best not to catch the knowing look Tex flashed his way as he did. And when Tex herself agreed to attempt to sway whichever Agents they could as a sidenote to their main objective; to retrieve the Alpha AI unit, Michael almost felt as if he could kiss her too.

Their main objective, in itself, was a steep proposition, but one that they knew they had to attempt at the very least, in order for them to ensure the Director didn’t have a chance to fashion any more fragments for the remaining Agents in the Project, and to prevent the AI itself from suffering any further. Tex especially seemed particularly invested in the latter part, and from what Michael could tell Ryan had a theory about exactly why that was. He hadn’t shared the details of it with Michael just yet, but the idea of it lingered all the same, as a hazy presence at the back of his mind.

Plus there was the fact that Iota seemed to react differently to Tex than any of the other agents (other than Ryan) aboard the ship. She (or at least he was pretty sure she was a she) was a little shier than Eta, though she had no issue appearing around Ryan or Tex, she very rarely felt as comfortable around York or 479er. Mostly, she’d just interact with him and Eta. It sparked to life something within Michael that was oddly protective, almost like some sort of slightly warped parental instinct, that made him want to shield Io from the world that’d been so goddamn cruel to her… He was starting to understand how the other Agents had grown so attached.

‘Michael?’

_ Yeah Io? _

‘ _Ryan wants a word_.’

_ Thanks for letting me know Eta. _

‘You’re welcome.’ He smiled a little at that, wondering how in the hell he’d ended up with such a polite AI when he himself swore like a fucking sailor. He guessed, in that respect at least, he’d just been incredibly fucking lucky.

“The twins said you wanted to talk?” Ryan nodded.

“We’ll do our best to get them all out tomorrow. You know that right?” Something heavy settled against Michael’s chest as he nodded.

“Yeah I do.”

“And we  _can_  get them out… as long as we both stay focused.” Something shattered a little with him as Michael nodded, a little coldly.

“No emotions, got it.”

“No that’s not what I… I mean don’t let them distract you.” Michael turned to stare at Ryan, a tentative sense of hope begin to stir a little within the depths of his chest as he waited for the man to elaborate, “Of course you’re going to have emotions in the field, we both always were from the moment Rhodey got a little too drunk and started kissing people.” He almost laughed at that, probably would've if his throat hadn't been oddly dry and it hadn't suddenly felt so hard to breathe, “Just don’t let them take over. Use them to fuel you, don’t let them take control.”

“We.”

“What?”

“You said ‘we’.”

“That’s really all you took away from that?” Ryan looked a little nervous though, and there was a similar sort of tentativeness lingering in the man’s gaze.

“You mentioned emotions and included a we, forgive me if I got a little distracted from the intended message of that statement.”

“Contrary to what’s apparently popular opinion, I’m not actually a robot.”

“Pretty sure most people just think you’re mad Ry.” The man paused for a moment, but otherwise didn’t comment on the nickname, and if the new glint in his eyes was anything to go by, the man didn’t really seem to mind.

“Well I’m not going to rule that one out. After all, I did let a pretty good thing get away from me because of trust and commitment issues.”

“That doesn't make you mad. Just a little cheesy and a fucking dumbass.” He offered back with a slight quirk of the lips, “Especially since you haven’t fucking kissed me yet and you obviously want to.” There was a mortifying long pause in which Michael began to believe that he’d called the situation entirely wrong…

And then suddenly there were lips on his, slightly desperate but firm, and arms wrapping tightly around his waist, travelling down his sides, and Michael decided that low grade he’d received himself in that psychological testing all those years ago for the project must’ve been some kind of bullshit because if he’d managed to read  _Ryan_  correctly. He must be some kind of fucking psychological god... And then the man’s hands wandered lower to grab his ass and suddenly all thoughts, of psychological godliness or otherwise, fled his mind entirely.

\----

The mission itself was kind of a disaster from start to finish. Tex took off almost immediately with York, as planned, but due to a run in with Carolina they’d gotten separated pretty damn fast. 479er had been forced to switch hiding spots since the radars had spotted her. The world around them seemed to be erupting into chaos that only got worse with each and every small fuck up that took place.

But Ryan remained calm throughout, and that calmness seemed to bleed into Michael himself as the two took off towards Ken’s chambers, a sense of overwhelming relief crashing through them both when it turned out that they’d chosen the right room to check.

A  _very_  condensed version of ‘what the fuck was going on’ (as Ken had worded it) and a couple of worrying shudders from the Mother of Invention later and the rest of the agents seemed to be willing, at the very least, to trust Michael and Ryan to explain the details more thoroughly once they’d reached safety.

The fact that the two of them were talking, and actually working together, without the awkward tension that’d been lingering between them for weeks now (or two weeks, four days, two hours and twenty seven minutes to be exact, because let’s fucking face it, he’d definitely been counting) had probably aided them in making that decision, and the nameless Agent in blue armor’s persistent attempts to eradicate them? Well that’d kind of sealed the deal on their willingness to run away with them.

Of course, once they’d all boarded the ship, and they’d been forced to pull out and temporarily leave Tex behind, more answers were expected from them which were readily given. They’d left Rhodey oddly quiet, Rico a shade paler than usual, Cali expressionless, save for the obvious regret lingering in his eyes, and Ken practically vibrating with an anger that only calmed once Cali laid a careful hand on the man’s shoulder, causing him to deflate a little against his side.

They’d left the four agents to process the information after that, heading over to the control deck to talk with 479er about Tex’s evac, Michael all the while doing his best not to notice the haunted looked that lingered on York’s face since, whatever had happened, the man obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

It wasn't until after they’d picked up Tex (the woman carrying something that seemed similarly haunted in her gait as she’d wandered over to York, murmuring some words under her breath that made the man tense up even further before nodding and murmuring some words of his own) that either of them had dared to approach the other agents again.

When they did, it was Cali who opened with, “Apparently there’s no agent names used aboard this jet?”

“Mostly yeah. I mean Texas is Tex but otherwise… I’m Michael.”

“Jack.” Cali offered back, something like regret lingering in his eyes as he offered his hand for a handshake. Which naturally led to Michael rolling his eyes and ignoring the appendage entirely in favor of pulling the man into a warm hug.

“Nice to meet you Jack.” He finally offered as he pulled back, carefully committing the name to memory as Ryan offered his own name before turning expectantly to face Rhodey.

“I’m Gavin.” He offered before taking off at a sprint and launching himself into Michael’s arms, leaving him a little out of breath but laughing despite that breathlessness as Ryan received the same treatment.

“Ray.” Rico offered when Michael turned to face him, tentatively taking a few steps towards them before murmuring a resolute ‘fuck it’ and all but launching himself at the pair of them the way Gavin had before.

“And I’m Geoff. And you’re both fucking idiots.” Michael’s lips quirked a little at that.

“We probably deserve that.”

“You definitely deserve it you fucking assholes.” And then Geoff’s arms were around Michael’s back, clinging tight for a long moment before he moved to offer Ryan the same treatment and some missing piece of him that’d been missing for those two weeks, four days (etcetera etcetera) finally slotted back into place.

\----

When they touched down a few hours later in their pre-planned destination, Tex and 479er didn’t linger long, enough to say goodbyes, and for Tex to have a word both with York and him, offering what little advice she could before the pair of them headed off to continue to fight the director and attempt to liberate the alpha AI.

York had left not too long afterwards, claiming that he needed some space from the project. No one had felt the need to question why, it didn’t take much imagination after all to guess, but Michael had refused to let him leave without the man giving his word that should he ever be in a situation where he needed backup, make sure to get in touch. After all, he still owed the man big time for letting him save Kansas, back when Ryan had still been just Kansas.

After York had left, they’d wandered a little aimlessly for a few days, setting up temporary camps and learning a lot about each other in the process. Like the fact that Geoff could cook pretty much anything to perfection, or that Jack had a surprisingly extensive knowledge of which of the fruits they stumbled across were edible. Gavin was loud (something they all already knew) but had a surprisingly proficiency for traps and Ray, unsurprisingly, was just as effective a sniper with wildlife as he’d always been in a field.

And then, eventually, they’d stumbled across an abandoned training base, complete with the traditional red and blue armors they’d been quick to borrow, having disposed of their freelancer a while back in order to shake any remaining agents they might send to track them down and take them out. And from the moment they slipped those, slightly tacky as far as Michael was concerned, armors on? Well suddenly life was oddly… simple.

It was weirdly freeing really, after all that’d taken place aboard the Mother of Invention, for their days to suddenly consist of relaxing and fucking around with each other, literally after a few days of dancing around the issue prompted a ‘fuck it’, from Gavin of all people, as he’d promptly jumped Michael in a weird parody of how they’d first fallen into a relationship in the first place.

Except this time, they were open about what they were. Away from the prying eyes of the Director and far past the point of fucking caring what anyone else had to say on the matter. Perhaps it was ironic that it was in hiding that they finally didn’t have to hide that; perhaps it was just that the ever-present knowledge that any day could quite feasibly be their last had reshuffled their priorities considerably.

Except this time, they used names, or surnames, or dumb nicknames based off names, or inside jokes, or other dumb shit. No code-names. No fucking states. Just them.

Except this time Project Freelancer was all but a distant memory, or would be if it wasn't for two small little fragments they’d salvaged from it’s wreckage. Eta and Iota. Thankfully, the initial fondness Ryan and Michael had felt toward their AI had quickly spread in a way that meant that neither of them were, in any way, under threat of being removed from their number anytime soon. They’d sooner die.

Other than the ever-present threat of that particular outcome lingering on the horizon though, it genuinely became a simple life. For all of them. Lazy make-outs, stargazing and inane questions (mostly courtesy of Gavin) ranging from material such as ‘what if your legs didn’t know they were legs’ to the ever-present query of why they were all there, both in that particular box canyon and on a more spiritual level.

Michael was happy, genuinely fucking happy, for the first time in what felt like forever.

And it stayed that way. The years passed and neither the Meta nor the Project managed to track them down, the six of them remaining utterly undetected. It was a stroke of luck none of them had exactly been expecting, and that a lot of them were often skeptical about, but Michael chose not to question it most days. After all, it was about damn time the universe let the six of them catch a goddamn break.


End file.
